


Damage Control

by Andraste



Category: The Secret World
Genre: Gen, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2826617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andraste/pseuds/Andraste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's always a mess to clean up after a fight. Literally and figuratively.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damage Control

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moontyger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/gifts).



> I couldn't find the turn-in text for the New York Raid mission online, and, uh, I've never actually done it myself. I apologise if this contradicts anything KG says there about the Illuminati response! (Then again, I suppose it would be just like a secret society to tell one agent one thing and another agent another ...)

"Well, this is just fucking perfect."

Kirsten Geary is looking at the results of the battle like it's a mess on the bottom of one of her expensive shoes, although he notices that she's actually careful to keep those out of the muck on the ground. Alex is surprised she came down here, but it's so close to HQ she probably couldn't avoid it. It also gives her a chance to complain at him in person.

He can't argue with her assessment. Where Times Square used to be, there's now a giant hole and a pile of Unutterable Lurker, rapidly turning in the sun. Even worse than the smell of Filth is the smell of rotting calamari, which must have covered half the city by now. He wonders how they're going to get rid of that. Maybe the Council of Venice will carpet bomb the city with air fresheners. It would be about as useful as most of the things they do.

"I told you to be discreet. This is the exact opposite of discreet, McCall."

He's not sure there _is_ a discreet way to kill something like this, although he has to admit that he forgot to look for one in between avoiding the zombies and shitting himself. "Don't look at me," he says, trying not to sound sulky or defensive. "I didn't decide that we should fight it here. I'm not sure what we could have done to get it to go somewhere else, anyway. Ever hear the one about the five hundred pound gorilla?"

"What's done is done. Give me solutions."

"I was thinking leaky gas pipes?"

Geary rolls her eyes at him. "You have no imagination, McCall. That's not a big enough lie. We need terrorists. Al-Qaeda?" she starts walking in a circle. "Nah, that's played out. Something fresher. A cult, maybe?"

Alex shrugs. "I'll leave that up to you." That's never been his side of the business. He prefers being out here at the coal face to running the Illuminati publicity machine. "So how are we going to get the, you know," he gestures at the hole, "the thing out? And what are we going to do with it afterwards?" It's too much to hope that the other societies will be of any help with that, even if they'd be allowed to interfere on Illuminati home turf.

"Oh, that's the easy part. Where do you think Mickey D's gets the raw ingredients for their Fillet-O-Fish?"

Alex makes a face. He can never tell how much of that stuff is a joke, but he doesn't eat fast food any more. Bingo! Cola is right out.

"Seriously, though, we have people for that. The way we decide to present this to the public is more important. Do you think the others will play ball?"

"Mei Ling, Rose White and their chums, yes, I think so. The other factions don't want this getting out any more than we do." The Templars are, if anything, more obsessed with secrets than the Illuminati, although from what he hears theirs involve doing sick things to goats. There are a lot of reasons he came all the way to America to find his answers instead of joining up in the old country. As for the Dragon, nobody understands what they want, not even their operatives. But in the end, nobody gives a shit either. "I don't know about Zuberi."

"Nobody does. It's part of his charm."

"You don't think a cult is too close to the truth?"

"That's what makes it work. People are going to think there was some crazy end of the world thing going on anyway, we just need to redirect them a little. We have a group in place that would be perfect to take the fall for this. Just make sure everyone else keeps their mouths shut and it'll be fine."

Alex stares into the crater. It's getting dark, and he can no longer see the horrible corpse with any clarity. He can't believe they managed to kill it, even with the help of thee societies. Sometimes the scale of all this boggles him. He thinks of the ordinary people who still have no idea what really goes on in the world, and for once feels something other than contempt for them. They're better off not knowing what happens above their heads and under their feet.

"Where are you sending me next?" he asks, hoping that the answer involves a hammock in the Bahamas, or at least a beer.

She shrugs. "Word is, big things are going down in Tokyo. More big things."

Alex groans. Fucking Tokyo. If he never sees it again, it'll be too soon. "Well, that's wonderful. Are we going to fight fucking Godzilla now?"

Geary shrugs. "I'll keep you posted on that one."

That's a lie, of course. Sometimes he wonders if it will always be like this. He still can't shake the feeling that all the really good stuff is being kept away from him. The Illuminati promised him sex, drugs and rock and roll, but so far he's seen precious little of the former, and the drugs are mostly there to numb the pain after a pounding from too many Draug. The rock and roll is usually drowned out by the screaming. It's no good letting it get to him, though. Everyone knows there's no leaving the Illuminati. And even standing here covered in Unutterable Lurker, he can't say he'd really have things another way.

"You're not going back to Tokyo right now, though," she continues. "First you get to go to Venice and explain this mess to the Council."

That's even better than Tokyo, if possible. "Explain what? How we killed a giant Ur-Draug and saved New York like bloody heroes?" He glances around. "Most of New York, anyway."

She waves a hand airily. "Politics, McCall. I wouldn't send you if you hadn't been our man on the scene, believe me. I know it's not exactly your strong suit."

"I wasn't the only Illuminati here, you know," he says. He doesn't know why he's trying to get out of this, except for the sinking feeling that it's probably a trap. A trap set by who, he's less sure of.

"Yeah, well, the others aren't exactly the kind of people I'd send to make a deposition. Not big talkers, you know. You're the right tool for the job."

He sighs. "All right. So what's my real mission while I'm there?"

She grins at him, and he can't help but feel proud to have figured her out, and then annoyed for falling for the charm offensive again. "There's a lot of stuff under Venice, and I'm not just speaking literally here. There are a lot of rumours. Purple-shaded rumours."

The Phoenicians have always been more of a problem for the Templars than the Illuminati. Hell, they've been known to contract jobs out to them, even team up and get one over their mutual old enemies. But he can see that the Illuminati wouldn't want them getting any real power in Venice.

"You want me to find out if it's true?"

"I want you to poke around. Talk loudly, if you think it'll help you learn something."

"So I'll get caught and whatever spy you've really sent to do the job will have some cover and take all the credit?"

Her eyes harden. "Look, McCall, there are some people who think you're not enough of a team player. Don't give them ammunition. Look at this as a chance to prove your loyalty and get another rung up the ladder."

Alex can't help but feel that he's proved his loyalty already today, but there's no point arguing. He tells himself that he's smart enough to turn this around - do this mission discreetly, maybe learn a thing or two she doesn't want him to know.

"When do I leave?"

"Whenever you're ready. If I were you, though, I'd probably grab a shower first. It'll look bad if the Council choke to death from standing downwind."

He heads back to Illuminati headquarters wondering what he'll find in Venice, whether it might be something to give him an edge. Wondering if that's exactly what Geary is anticipating. And whether he's ever going to shake the feeling that he's just dancing to somebody else's tune.


End file.
